Dearest William

I very rarely get cross. I found that when I do, I lose control of my entire self.

That being said, I do try my best to contain negative thoughts. Should I ever fail, people might not want to be anywhere near me.

Yes, my lord, it is a warning.

Your friend,

Lady Weis

*****

Emma burst inside their chamber only to stop with alarm upon seeing Ysabella's distraught face.

Her sister slowly approached her with a frown on her face. "I have just arrived and Jefferson told me that you have returned from Bertram. Why did you not send us a—"

"Em," Ysabella choked out, tears welling automatically welling her eyes after she saw her sister. "You were right."

Emma looked confused. "Right about what, Ysa? Why are you crying?" Anger lit her sister's eyes. "Did Wakefield—"

Ysabella shook her head, a tear escaping her eye. "No, it is not him." Her face contorted with pain. "It is Aurora."

Emma's jaw tightened and Ysabella saw through the blur of tears that her sister's face had gone scarlet. "What did she do?"

Ysabella shivered with the pain. "She—she stole the letters, Em." She looked at her sister with pleading eyes. "I am sorry if I did not believe you. I thought she was true and—"

"It no longer matters, Ysa," Emma said, now walking toward her. Her sister took her hand in hers. "You have been blinded by your love for her. She was the only person to have shown you what you wanted to see. She made you feel as if you were doing the right thing."

Emma slowly sat down beside her, face filled with fury once more.

"Now, tell me everything."

Ysabella's shoulder started shaking but she tried her best to control her tears. "I... I returned from Bertram and everyone was out. I had exciting news and I could not wait to tell someone. You were out with Ralph, Jefferson said. So I went to her estate. While her butler went to inform her of my presence, I got lost in her study."

It took quite a while before Emma said, "You saw the letters."

Ysabella whimpered and shook her head. "No, I did not."

"Then what—"

"I saw my ribbons."

"Ribbons?"

"The three ribbons I used to tie the letters together."

"But where—"

"I don't know! I don't know where she kept them!"

"Are you certain—"

"I am certain they were mine, Em. I have tied them too many times in the past and I know every inch of each one of them."

Emma was quiet again. And when she spoke, she said, "It would be quite hard to accuse her of stealing the letters, much more so suspect her."

"You were the one who suggested she might have taken them. She has the ribbons. It only means—"

"Fret not, Ysa," Emma interjected, squeezing her hand. "I believe you."

Ysabella wanted to kick something. She wanted to vent out the fury inside her, but the pain was greater at the moment that she was held immobile. "What do I do, Em? What could she have done with the letters?"

Her sister's face was now filled with concentration. The way her brows met in a straight line and her eyes looking at one distant place, Ysabella knew Emma would soon come up with answers. "She could have used them as proof. She could be planning to claim she is Lady Weis."

"Wakefield would not believe her!" Ysabella said with horror, although at that time she could no longer brush aside Emma's theory.

Emma met her eyes. "Or she could have sold it to someone else for money."

Ysabella blanched. "No. No. Em, I do not think I could handle it if she used my letters for—"

Emma tightened her hold around Ysabella's hand.

"I hope I never left Bertram." Her voice shook. "The moment I returned, things turned to worse!"

Her sister pulled her closer and held her as she finally allowed herself to cry. "I have your back, Ysa. You have me." Emma turned her head to kiss her temple. "We shall confront her at once."

Ysabella shook her head. "I do not think I can, Em."

"You can," her sister's strong voice said, giving her a small shake. "You can because you have to. You have the right to do so. For now, you allow yourself to be weak for you shall need your strength on the morrow."

Emma let Ysabella cry a little while longer in silence.

*****

Having had no sleep the previous night since he returned, Wakefield decided to go out early to call on Ysabella. Mayhap he could invite her for a walk in the park. Or perhaps find a book she would fancy, one that did not discuss geography.

On the way to the door, Morris handed him missives.

He read the note from Aurora's doctor saying that her wounds had fully healed and the stitches had been removed. He'd return in two days for a final visit.

Another one was from Aurora herself, asking if he would visit now that he had returned. That, he thought he would not do until it was time for him to discuss what her next plans should be.

"Will you not look into the others, my lord?" Morris asked when he handed back the rest.

"No."

"But they are from ladies who—"

"You shall no longer accept any calls or missives from anyone claiming to be Lady Weis," he ordered.

Morris looked utterly delighted and the bastard did not even hide it. "Yes, my lord. Very good, my lord."

He started for the door.

"Where shall you be today, my lord?" When he glared over his shoulder, Morris added, "In case someone asks, of course."

"The Everard estate," he curtly replied before he left. Before he turned away, he saw Morris gaping at him.

Climbing into his carriage, Wakefield realized he was nervous. Bloody hell.

Would any of her brothers be there? Would her mother accept the call? Would she be amiable? What would he tell her?

He had never done this before, never even attempted it.

All the way to the Everard manor, Wakefield thought of the many different ways this first visit would end in a tragic way.

He had pictured himself accepting heavy blows from her brothers, a sword fight, and even a duel. The worst was a rope tied around his neck.

By the time he arrived, he found he could not even move his legs.

But he had to force himself if he wanted this. And God, he wanted this.

Walking up the steps that led to the front doors was comparable to climbing one of the steepest rock formations in the southern part of the Town. His lungs felt as if they barely had enough air, his heart a loud beating sound in his ears. Was he having a heart attack, he wondered.

As he knocked, he pictured Ysabella holding a flower outside his own estate. She had done this many times every Friday. Had she always felt her heart was jumping to all places as his was now? Did her hands shake as well? Did her knees feel wobbly?

When the butler finally opened the door, he found he could not speak.

Jefferson, of course, knew of him from the many times he had visited Levi in this very same estate in the past. But he never felt the urge to befriend the man as much as he wanted to now. He knew, by having watched Ysabella talk with Morris, that Jefferson could be the doorway not merely into the estate but also to every activity Ysabella had planned for the day and the next.

"Lord Wakefied, what a surprise!" Jefferson said. "Are you by chance looking for Lord Standbury? I am afraid he had long left the estate since the hunting games and—"

"No, no, Jefferson," he said, swallowing. Bloody hell, his throat felt dry. "I am here for Lady Ysabella."

Jefferson looked stunned. Then the most unexpected thing happened on the old man's face. It transformed from formal to confusion and finally settled to what Wakefield interpreted as angry-suspicious. Apparently, like the rest of Wickhurst, the butler knew how he had been treating Ysabella in her courtship. "Whyever would you want to see Lady Ysabella?"

Wakefield squared his shoulders and cleared his throat. "Well, it is a matter I think I ought not to share to you as it does not concern you."

That, of course, was the biggest mistake he made that day for the butler's greying brow arched with defiance. "Lady Ysabella is currently not in residence, Lord Wakefield." The man's tone was dismissive.

"Could I inquire where she went?" he patiently asked.

"Yes, but I fear I cannot answer as I was not given any instruction to do so. It is a matter I think I ought not to share to you as it does not concern you," the butler said, throwing his own words back to his face. "My lord," Jefferson added with finality.

Wakefield could feel the fury building in the pit of his stomach but he held it in place. It would not do him well if he would make an enemy out of Jefferson. He had been with the family for a very long time and he knew they considered him family.

He forced a smile on his face. "Then perhaps I would return later this afternoon once Lady Ysabella has returned from wherever she went."

Jefferson nodded, bowed and gently closed the door. Right in his face. While he was still standing there.

Bloody bastard, wait until I am part of the family!

With a sigh, Wakefield whirled around to climb back inside his carriage. "Back to the estate," he scowled at the carriage driver.

He shall return later, he thought with determination. If she had been able to go to his estate weekly for two years, then he could very well go back every hour in a day if need be.

*****

Ysabella wanted to run back to the carriage but Emma was holding her hand firmly.

And when the butler opened the door, her sister pulled her right through the doorway, past the surprised butler and demanded, "Bring your mistress down here this very instant," to the butler.

"But Miss Randolph is not expecting—"

"Now!" Emma shouted.

"My lady, she is currently—"

"Very well, then," Emma said, pulling Ysabella with her as she stormed to the stairs. "We shall find her ourselves!"

"My lady, it is not—"

"Sod off!" Emma shouted over her shoulder as they climbed up the stairs.

When they reached the top, a door opened from the right corridor.

"Emma? Ysabella?" Aurora asked, her voice delighted. "Whyever are you here? Why are you shouting?"

Ysabella stood frozen. Aurora looked perfectly the same, still beautiful, still looking prim and proper in her light green dress, her expression as mellow as they had been before Ysabella left Wickhurst weeks ago.

She doubted herself once again. Could Aurora truly have done it? Mayhap she had seen wrong and the ribbons were merely the same as hers.

But she had no time to ponder as Emma let go of her hand and stormed straight toward Aurora.

"Where are the letters?" Emma demanded.

Ysabella forced herself to walk and join the two women in the middle of the corridor.

The butler had followed them but Aurora nodded over Emma's shoulder to dismiss the man. When Aurora's blue eyes returned to Emma's she looked confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Stop lying, Aurora," Emma snapped. "Tell us where you hid the letters."

Aurora frowned and looked over at Ysabella. "Ysa? I was informed you came here yesterday but when I came down to find you, you have gone. What is the matter? What is Emma talking about?"

Ysabella was stunned. She could barely move. She could not even think of a word to say.

"Wakefield's letters, Aurora," Emma said. "We know you have them. Ysabella found the ribbons in your study."

Ysabella wanted to believe Aurora was innocent but for the first time she saw the flicker of alarm cross Aurora's face before she covered it with a shaky laugh. "Goodness gracious!" she said, "You could not be thinking it was I who stole them, could you?"

"We know you took them. You are the only other person who had been in our chambers other than the maids," Emma sharply accused. "Now, stop the act and tell us where the letters are!"

Aurora frowned. She looked over at Ysabella. "Truly, Ysa, you could not be—"

"I know my ribbons as much as I know the letters, Aurora. I saw them inside the drawer in your study," Ysabella finally spoke. "Please, stop this and tell us where they are." Her eyes began to water once more.

Aurora was looking as though she had finally been trapped. Her eyes seemed to panic before they turned desperate. But finally her face fell and she sighed. Her eyes wavered. "I no longer have them—"

She was not able to finish her words as Emma's hand came crashing against her cheek. Her face turned to the side before she calmly straightened it to face the two of them. A small, pained smile curved her lips. "I had wished you would never find out."

"How could you!" Ysabella brokenly shouted, tears streaming down her face. Her face contorted as she felt her heart being clenched. "Why, Aurora? Why did you—"

"—do it?" Aurora finished, her eye flinching. "Why did I choose to betray your trust?" She let out a scoff, her lips curving with bitterness. "It would be quite hard to explain, really."

"Are you that desperate that you would opt to pretend to be Lady Weis?" Ysabella asked.

Aurora's blue eyes widened, giving Emma and Ysabella an incredulous look. "Goodness, Ysa. I would never dare pretend to be her—to be you! I am not good enough to pull off such act. The letters are not to be used by me, of course." She drew a deep breath. "I destroyed them."

Ysabella gasped in horror. "How could you!"

"How did you get the letters?" Emma demanded.

Aurora shrugged. "I am actually quite surprised you did not realize the letters were gone sooner. I took them merely days after the Cinderella Ball."

"But why? If you are not planning to be Lady Weis, why did you take them? Do you hate me?"

Aurora averted her gaze before she squared her shoulders and fixed a firm, haughty air. "Well, not really. You have been a terrific friend. But I do have to do what I could to survive."

"Survive?"

"I am not as rich as the Everards," was Aurora's simple answer. "Mayhap you are right. I might be holding some sort of resentment toward you after all. I have always hated that you think you can always get what you want," she said to Ysabella. "It is time that you realize that you cannot have it all, Ysa." She paused.

Ysabella went cold. "Whatever do you mean, Aurora?"

Aurora shrugged gave Ysabella a pitiful look. "You truly do not know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"Who Wakefield's current lover is."

The words rang too many times in her head before she finally realized what Aurora meant. And when she did, the betrayal she felt doubled a hundred times over. She suddenly felt weak. She felt as though the ground had cracked open below her.

He was her lover. And he never told her. He had let her chase him around, did the things he did in Bertram, knowing full well he was bedding her friend! And she had been too naïve to have not suspected such a thing!

The two people she had held dear had been laughing behind her back, watching her make a fool of herself for too long. Suddenly she could picture the two of them cuddled in bed, laughing at her expense.

Suddenly Ysabella could not breathe. The tears would not even come out. She felt cold, utterly frozen. Fury, confusion, betrayal, hate—everything crashing down on her like a big giant ball of rock.

But this was not the moment to be weak, not when Aurora expected it, not when it would satisfy her.

As she squarely met Aurora's eyes, she could no longer see the friend she cared about, the friend who had listened to all her foolish tales and plans, the one who had been too innocent around them.

What she saw before her eyes was a completely different person.

"So you see now why I had to do it? I am sick of your games, of your tireless efforts to chase a man who could never return your feelings."

"Then you should have given the letters to Wakefield. If you have given him proof that I am Lady Weis, he would have hated me for it. You could have told him and mayhap you would have succeeded in having him for your own!"

Aurora did not reply, simply scoffed.

"She chose to eliminate the proof of you being Lady Weis because she, too, is afraid. She is afraid he will leave her and come to you," Emma answered Ysabella, voice dangerously alarming. Everything Ysabella felt that moment was distinctly laced in Emma's voice.

Aurora did not utter a word to deny Emma's accusation. She simply shrugged. "And where do you ken would that leave me then? He had already left his other lovers. I would not want that to happen to me as well. I figured that making Lady Weis disappear for good is a much better option."

Ysabella stepped forward, hands clenched into fists. "He shall know of this—of what you have done."

"I do not worry about it, really," Aurora wryly uttered. "Wakefield believes me more than you, Ysa. I have proven it a long time ago."

Letting out a scoff of disbelief, Ysabella demanded, "Since when? Since when did you become his lover?"

Aurora shrugged. "It does not matter. Do you truly wish to know? I would not want you to crack your brain thinking of the many times you have approached him and realize that it was I he went to after. I would spare you of the pain."

Aurora knew her too well, after all.

Ysabella could not speak for she did not want to know. How many balls did she go to with Aurora and chased Wakefield while her friend stood to one corner to let her have her way? Aurora was right. She did not wish to know!

"Whatever you say to him, he will never believe. He cannot even see you as Lady Weis! You spent a fortnight together in Bertram, did you not? Did he learn the real Ysabella?" Aurora asked with mocked concern.

Ysabella saw Emma's surprise at the mention of Wakefield at Bertram but her sister did not say a word.

"He never did, did he not?"

A whimper escaped Ysabella. He had told Aurora of his plans to go to Bertram.

Suddenly everything that happened at Thomas' estate faded in her mind, as if they were merely a dream she had forgotten upon waking up. And she was indeed waking up. This was reality. Bertram and the Wakefield in Bertram were but a dream.

Aurora took a step back when Emma stepped forward. She looked over at Ysabella. "I had never lied to him. I have been a faithful lover for a long time. While you are but a child in his eyes, Ysabella. He can never love you."

Ysabella started to stride forward, hand at the ready, an invisible force urging her to just do it, but Emma was faster and nearer. Her sister leapt and attacked Aurora before Ysabella could reach them. The two fell on the floor and Emma was now scratching at Aurora's face, slapping her in intervals.

The shouting started but it was when they finally heard Aurora's cry of pain that Ysabella pulled at her sister. She dragged Emma off Aurora who immediately curled into a ball. Her skirts had been pulled high above her knees in their struggle.

Ysabella could hear the butler rushing up the stairs now.

But her mind ignored it for when Ysabella saw the fresh scars on Aurora's thigh, she gasped in surprise.

Realizing too late, Aurora scrambled to push her skirts down, shouting, "Get out! Get out!"

Emma was now frozen beside Ysabella, both of them in utter shock and confusion.

The butler had reached them now, panting.

Aurora pulled herself off the floor and ordered at the man, "Get them out of here!"

It was Emma who was first to snap out of their stunned surprise and she reached for Ysabella's hand, slapping the butler's arm when he made a motion to guide them.

"You are no longer a friend of ours, Aurora," Emma said, staring down at Aurora. "You messed with the wrong sisters."

With those last words, Emma pulled Ysabella away.

She looked over her shoulder before they started to climb down the stairs. Aurora was simply sitting there, obviously still in pain.

What had happened to her? Who gave her those scars?

*****

Wakefield was in his bedchamber, ready to leave once more to try his luck with Jefferson for the second time, when his door swung open and Morris entered, clearing his throat.

"What is it?"

"My lord," his butler began, "I know you have given specific instruction not to allow more callers who claim to be Lady Weis, but—"

"Yes, Morris, and if I am not mistaken, someone had managed to fool you once again. Tell the chit I do no longer desire to find Lady Weis. And if you truly believe it might be her," he added wryly, "then do the honour of telling her she is too late."

"But my lord, this time it is different."

"Whatever do you mean? If it is another man, I swear I will make certain to throw you out the window this time."

Morris was already shaking his head. "No, my lord. It is someone else entirely."

"Then do as I have ordered and get rid of the chit!" He walked over to his closet to find his best cravat. "I am going out, which, as you can see, is a bloody difficult thing to do because you have failed to find me a valet!"

"But, my lord, she has proof!" Morris insisted behind him.

"They have all claimed to have one. Now, go and get my message across, Morris. You are testing my patience."

"She—she has the letters, my lord," Morris stammered.

Wakefield had turned around, ready to shout at the butler when Morris' words dawned on him. "What did you say?"

Morris was nodding his head as he said, "She has the letters you sent Lady Weis, my lord. All of them!"